Waiting to Exhale

I admit it: I have a real problem with Facebook. Especially Farmville and Cafe World. I can’t stop playing. I can’t stop reading all the status updates. I can not stop. This is not because Facebook is so interesting, really, it isn’t. It is because my life has become so small and so isolated that my only contact with the outside world is via the internet.
In many ways living in North Carolina has been good for my family and me. We have been normal, average, typical in our household living arrangements. We learned to make due, to eat in, to enjoy each other’s company, to be content with what we have. Maybe we learned that lesson a little too well. We are quite capable of holing up for ages and not going out except to feed the animals. For years now I have been holding my breath, waiting to get out, escape, exhale.
There are ways, too, in which living here has damaged us, hopefully not beyond repair. We have learned even more than we already knew about the dank, dark depths of conservative Christian hypocrisy. We have learned that the farmers either lie or actually believe that there is such a thing as, “A very safe pesticide,” and that they have no qualms about dropping it all over our children and livestock. We have learned that if they don’t like you much, the Rescue Squad will be late to save you and you will probably die before they get there. We have learned that the Civil Rights movement was something that happened in cities and that out here equality doesn’t exist. We have learned that this is a sad, shallow place filled with hatred, stupidity and malicious intent.
Our lives have become concentrated to the point that there is no juice left, there is nothing but the pure essence of life and we are holding tightly to it and trying to make our escape. I hope that when we do, my Cafe World and Farmvilles wither and perish from lack of attention and that my home and garden and life come back into full and juicy fruit, that walking outside in the evenings will again be a pleasure, that civilization will smooth our rumpled hair with her soft and lovely hands.
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About Blue Eagle Dreamer

Shamanic High Priestess and facilitator of empowerment and healing circles for girls and women, including a monthly Red Tent Temple. BA in English, minor in anthropology. Waldorf homeschool mom. Reiki master, cranial sacral therapist, herbalist, menstruvist, feminist, epicurian.
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